A Labyrinth of Feelings
by GreenMartini
Summary: Dumbledore wants to promote House Unity. Malfoy and Potter are stuck in a room until they settle their differences. What reasons will Malfoy reveal for not liking Potter? Only partly HBP compatible
1. Setting the Scene

_**A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or anything that you recognize from the Harry Potter World. The plot idea was borrowed from a friend (Queen Joker), I am using this with her permission. I hope you like it, it might be two or three chapters long. Read and Review (it's an author's best friend.) **_

**A Labyrinth of Feelings**

"Welcome, students, welcome!" Dumbledore said happily, beaming down at the students, all of who were awaiting the big announcement.

"Wonderful, wonderful," he said clapping his hands together. "Now, as I have announced earlier this term, we will be doing an activity to help promote House unity. Tonight we shall begin this unification promotion. Over the duration of the next thirty-five days, eight select students a night will be meeting with someone of another House. These pairs have been chosen by your Heads of House, and they have made sure that you are paired with someone who you do not get along with very well."

Many murmurs broke out amongst the students at Dumbledore's last comment. With his blue eyes twinkling, Dumbledore let the students chat before he set their fates in stone.

When the students realized that Dumbledore had more to say, they all turned toward their Headmaster.

"Now, I'm sure you are all dying of anticipation to find out who the eight are who will go through this tonight . If your name gets called, look under your dinner plate, and it will tell you where you are to meet. The pairs are as follows: Ron Weasley and Cormac McLaggen; Hermione Granger and Serena Catalini; Pansy Parkinson and Crystal Catalini, and our final group, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Now, I'm sure that all of you want to enjoy a delicious dinner, and so we shall."

At once the plates filled with delicious looking meats of all sorts, side dishes of every type, and pitcher upon pitcher of pumpkin juice. The trio looked skeptically at their empty plates. They picked them up and turned them over. There, sketched in silver letters, was a different location for each pair, and the words 'eight o'clock'.

"I've gotten the Transfiguration classroom," Hermione said looking at her plate.

"I got the Ancient Runes classroom," Ron said staring disdainfully at his plate.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom," Harry said glaring across the hall at Malfoy, who had already turned his own plate over and started picking lightly from his plate. Malfoy's facial expression was indifferent as he continued to chat animatedly with Zabini, using his fork to gesture strong points in their conversation.

"I know why you were paired with McLaggen, ever since Quidditch try-outs you two have been at each other's throats, but what about you?" Harry said, turning to look at Hermione, who didn't appear to want to eat much tonight.

"Serena Catalini has the second highest class average in the school. Since I only have a year and a half left, she's trying to do me in by studying everything I have in the past. She's dedicated her entire schedule to nothing but studying." Hermione said taking a small portion of mashed potatoes.

"What House is she from?" Ron asked, swallowing a rather large mouthful of ham.

"Slytherin, what else?" Hermione said disdainfully.

"Well if she's as smart as you are, I would have suspected Ravenclaw."

"I just can't figure out why her sister got paired up with Parkinson."

"You haven't heard? Crystal's been trying to get Malfoy away from Parkinson for years now. It's the battle of the Slytherins for Malfoy's favor," Lavender said from her seat next to Ron.

"So they're having the fight of the century over Malfoy's sorry self?" Ron scoffed.

"Yeah," Lavender sighed, leaning back against Ron.

* * *

Draco sat in the Slytherin common room. The low lights of the ceiling cast an eerie green glow that seemed oddly familiar. He knew that he had seen this exact color before. It was the color of the jet of light sent off by the Killing Curse. He'd seen a number of people cast that particular spell in his life.

With a quick glance at the mantle clock above the fire, Draco stood up and wished Pansy luck as he walked out of the door. The walk to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was a quiet trip up the four flights of stairs (if you count the stairs going from the dungeons to the Entrance Hall). When he arrived at the classroom, Potter was already there, sitting in his class seat, he looked extremely irritated. Draco let out a deep breath that he must have been holding for a while.

Potter turned to look at him, then looked away again, as if he weren't sure who would show up. Draco walked over and sat down opposite Potter, sitting backward in the chair.

"Potter," he said with a brief nod.

"Malfoy," Potter said, returning the gesture, though the discontent in his voice stated he wasn't happy to be meeting.

"Well, shall we start talking, that is why we're here," Draco said, trying to keep his voice light. The last thing he needed was to be stuck in this room all bloody night.

"Yes, let's. Why do you hate me so much? Is it only because of the fact that I turned down your friendship request in our first year?"

Draco just stared at Harry. If only he would've known what really happened. Draco looked down at the floor as the memories flooded over him.


	2. I would have gotten in trouble

**_A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or anything that you recognize from the Harry Potter World. The plot idea was borrowed from a friend (Queen Joker); I am using this with her permission. I hope you like it; it might be two or three chapters long. Read and Review (it's an author's best friend.) _**

**_A/N 2: Thank you to all my reviewers, no matter how few there were. And also, I mention "The Patriot" in this chapter. I have no idea who owns it but I know I don't, so don't sue me. For anyone that knows anything about Jason Isaacs, they will realize the connection that I placed in this chapter! I know Sky Lark will…I am sorry in advance for any typos you may come across. I started this at 10 and I've been working on this until the early hours of the morning. _**

_**RECAP: **Draco just stared at Harry. If only he would've known what really happened. Draco looked down at the floor as the memories flooded over him._

**Chapter 2: I would have gotten in trouble...**

FLASHBACK

"Master Malfoy, it is time to get up," the maid's voice called from the other side of the door, but Draco didn't want to get up yet. The bright light shone from his open curtains from which he had been watching the full moon last night. Frustrated with the sun, he pulled the cover over his head, hiding his anguished eyes.

The door on the far side of the room creaked open, and Draco heard the unmistakable swish of his father's cloak.

"Draco," the elder Malfoy started slowly, "I believe you were told to get out of bed, were you not?" The end of his mattress sunk due to his father's weight.

Sheepishly, Draco pushed the down comforter off of his head, and slowly sat up to face his father.

"Yes, Father," his quiet voice said.

"Now, what were you told about obeying what others tell you to do?" Malfoy Senior inquired, looking at his young son.

Draco looked up into his father's eyes. He remembered when his father's eyes had looked so bright and it wasn't overly difficult to get a genuine smile on his face. Years of doing 'dirty jobs' (as his father now referred to them as), worry and fatigue had taken some of his youthful appearance, though it did nothing to hinder his stamina.

"I was told not to-to," Draco said, struggling to remember the lecture he had previously been forced to sit through, "disobey orders, unless I had a good reason to do so."

"Having said that, do you have a legitimate reason to have disobeyed Annabelle when she instructed you to get out of bed?"

"No, Sir," Draco said, hanging his head.

"Well then, you know next time to obey when somebody gives you an order." A short nod from his son was all he needed to know it wouldn't happen again. "Very well, get ready. We aregoing to visit our new neighbors today."

When his father left the room Draco bounded out of bed and was ready in less than ten minutes, a record on his chart. Running down the impossibly long flight of stairs, he met up with his father in the study.

Lucius was sitting in the mahogany colored chair. A book was resting in his lap, and a small pair of reading glasses were perched on the end of his nose.

"Ah, Draco, come in and sit down. We still have yet to wait for your mother," Lucius said and went back to his book.

Draco walked over and sat on the edge of the couch opposite his father's chair. His father often had business dealings here, though Draco was ushered out of the room before they would begin talking.

Draco leaned back so his head hit the cushion behind him.

"Don't slouch, Draco, you willruin your posture," Narcissa scolded lightly as she walked into the room. She had on a simple green dress that wastight up top and fanned out slightly when it hit her waist. Every dress she owned was designed this way.

"Well, since we're all ready now, shall we be on our way?" Lucius asked, rising from his chair while removing his glasses. He set the book, which his wife had recommended, on the table. Written in curly writing on the cover were the words "The Patriot."

"Of course, let's go. Come along Draco," Narcissa said putting a guiding hand on her son's back. "Where are you in that book, dear?" Narcissa said, falling into step with Lucius when they exited the room.

"General Cornwallis and Brigadier General O'Hara about land, and Colonel William Tavington has just entered the room to converse with General Cornwallis."

"Yes, that is a very good part. They have a splendidly written conversation. As of now, what do you think of the book?" Narcissa asked as they walked out the front door of the manor, casting a locking spell as they walked away.

"It is a very good read, indeed. You choose your readings well," Lucius said, smiling at her.

"Thank you," Narcissa said as they closed the gate. "What information do you have on our neighbors in advance?"

"I know that they are muggles, and have one son," Lucius said simply.

"How old is their son?" Narcissa inquired to her husband.

"Same age a Draco."

"Father, if they are muggles, why are we going to visit them?" Draco asked from his mother's side as they walked at a rather slow pace to their new neighbors' house.

"We are going to pay them a visit because they own something that may be of value to me," Lucius said, choosing his words carefully.

"Like what, Father?" Curiosity was getting the better of him. Unbeknownst to him, that would get him in trouble later in his life.

"It's a child, actually."

"Why would you want their son?" Draco asked as fear pooled in his stomach at the thought of being replaced.

"There son is not the one I wish to meet," Lucius said giving his son the look that told Draco further questions were not to be asked.

Draco lowered his head when he received that glance from his father. He had hated getting that look since he was three, it always meant trouble if he didn't shut his mouth.

"I thought you said that they only had one son?" Narcissa said as they came upon their destination.

"They do, the other boy is not theirs, in a way. He's of their blood, by marriage, of course. This boy is 'The Chosen One'," Lucius said winking at Narcissa as they strode up the walkway. Lucius approached the door and knocked three times.

From inside, there came the sounds of bustling items and scurrying footsteps.

"Now, Draco, not a word is to be spoken of anything you have heard previously. No one is to know _anything _of the Wizarding World. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Father," came Draco's mumbled reply just as the door, which was made of yew, was pulled open.

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, how do you do?" A woman who had an unnaturally long neck said, extending her hand to each of Draco's elders in turn, "And this must be Draco, how are you today, dear?" The lady said, extending her hand to him.

Draco took it rather apprehensively, and said, "I'm fine, thank you," just as he had been taught since he had begun to speak.

"Well, let us not congregate on the doorstep all day, please, come in," The lady said stepping back and allowing the Malfoys to enter the proximity.

"You have a lovely home, Mrs. Dursley," Narcissa said, looking around at the furniture, which was extremely less ornate than the furniture that resided at the manor.

"Please, call me Petunia," she said, leading the group into the living room. Seated in an armchair was one of the biggest men Draco had ever seen in his life. He had an odd mustache under his nose, and his blonde hair lay neatly on his head. The shade of his hair was nothing compared to his family's hair though. It was a much deeper shade of yellow than Draco's own. Seated on the love sofa was a boy who looked much like the man seated on the armchair, excluding the mustache of course.

"Have a seat," Mr. Dursley said, not even bothering to get up from his seat. Draco was highly offended by this behavior, but knew better than to speak out with his father standing only a few feet from him. Following Narcissa's lead, the three Malfoys sat on the Dursley's extensive white-colored sofa.

"Dudley, why don't you take the boy and go up to your room and play?" Mr. Dursley said to his son, who was ignorantly watching the television.

"I don't wanna," Dudley said glaring at his father.

"Fine, do what you please," Mr. Dursley said, no hint of a coming punishment was noticeable. Draco scowled at the large man sitting on the chair. If he would've talked to his own father like that, Draco would have been forced to sit through a three hour lecture, given by his mother alone.

A slight tap on his thigh made Draco turn and look to his left. His mother was looking at him, that look was in her eyes. The scowl immediately left his face, and he decided that staring at the floor was much safer.

"May I get you anything, coffee, tea, wine?" Petunia said, standing next to her husband. Draco recalled seeing a petunia in one of his aunt's gardens recently. It was a rather ugly flower in his opinion, maybe that's how this lady got her name.

"I'll have some wine, thank you," Lucius said with a nod of his head.

"Tea would be lovely," Narcissa said.

"Draco, would you like anything?" Petunia said to him.

Draco just shook his head at her. After receiving another sharp tap against his thigh Draco sighed and replied. "I wouldn't like anything, thank you." Why was it that no one ever noticed his mother hitting him when he did something wrong? Was everyone on the planet that ignorant of their surroundings?

"Very well, I shall return momentarily," Petunia said, and walked out of the room. The atmosphere in the room was very tense. The only sounds being made in the house were the television as a cartoon character was pounded into the ground with what appeared to be a safe (how barbaric was the Muggle world?) and Petunia scurrying around in the kitchen.

"Mr. Dursley, how is it that you came upon this house?" Lucius said, attempting to start a conversation with this man. He was determined to find out all the information that he could.

"A close friend of mine is in the real estate business, and he suggested that I take the offer. This is only our summer home though. Our actual home is in Surrey." Mr. Dursley said looking at Lucius suspiciously.

"Here we are," Petunia said, walking back into the sitting room with a tray full of drinks. "Wine for the gentlemen," she said handing Lucius a wine glass, half filled with a blood red wine. "Tea for the lady, I didn't know what you took with it so I brought you cream and sugar also," Petunia said offering the two containers on the tray.

"Why thank you," Narcissa said in a falsely sweet tone, adding a small amount of the cream and sugar to the steaming teacup.

"Whiskey for Vernon," she said handing off the glass to her husband, "And a chocolate milkshake for Dudley," she said handing him the glass, which had begun to sweat already from the summer heat. "Are you sure you don't want anything, dear?" Petunia said.

_This is the last time I'm telling you this, _"No, thank you," Draco said, trying to keep his voice steady. He knew fairly well that punishment came to those who were disrespectful.

"If you're sure," Petunia said and returned the tray to the kitchen. When she came back, she sat down on the love sofa next to Dudley.

"Draco, we have a swing set out back if you would like to go out there while we talk," Petunia said, obviously finding Draco's behavior peculiar.

Draco looked to his parents for confirmation that it was okay to leave.

"Go ahead, honey," Narcissa said quietly to him.

Draco stood slowly looking around the room. Petunia told him how to get to the back door and, after asking to be excused, quietly left the room without another word. He found the backdoor easily enough and slid the glass door open. He stepped outside into the humid summer air.

Draco walked over and sat lightly upon one of the swinging seats. He leaned his head against the shining silver chain and was suddenly reminded that he was in such a rush this morning that he forgot to give his mother her birthday present.

The thought of his own stupidity and ignorance of his mother's special day burned into him like a hot branding. He disliked the Dursley's even more than he had three minutes ago now. He wished he could go home and get the velvet navy-blue box out of his wardrobe drawer. Inside rested a beautiful silver locket that was shaped in the shape of a simple heart. The locket itself held a picture of the three of them all smiling happily at the camera.

Draco was proud of the fact that he picked the locket out himself, though his father made some changes on it to make it even more beautiful than it was when he had picked it out. His father had a single jade crystal placed in the very center of the heart, which was in turn surrounded by six diamonds, all of which fit neatly together.

Lost in the fantasy of his mother's facial expressions when he gave the box to her, the young blonde did not notice another boy walking out of the house and towards the swing set. A surprised gasp was all it took to bring Draco out of his daze, and when he looked at the intruder, his gaze was met with a pair of wide bright green eyes.


	3. All good things come to an end

**_A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or anything that you recognize from the Harry Potter World. The plot idea was borrowed from a friend (Queen Joker); I am using this with her permission. I hope you like it; it might be two or three chapters long. Read and Review (it's an author's best friend.)_**

**_A/N 2: For those of you who were wondering what the thing was between this fic and "The Patriot" was that in chapter 2, I mentioned a part that involved Colonel William Tavington. The actor that plays Lucius Malfoy in the Harry Potter movies also plays Colonel William Tavington in "The Patriot". The actors name is Jason Issacs (who is very good looking by the way. Go ahead and drool Sky Lark…). _**

**_Recap: _**A surprised gasp was all it took to bring Draco out of his daze, and when he looked at the intruder, his gaze was met with a pair of wide bright green eyes.

* * *

Draco got off the swing from which he had been lightly rocking back and forth on.

"Hi," he said to the other boy, a smile coming upon his face.

The other boy continued to stare at Draco, not moving. When Draco took a step towards him, the other boy would cautiously take a step back.

Without warning, the raven-haired boy turned and started to run for the house.

"No, wait! Please don't go!" Draco called after the boy, who then stopped in his tracks and turned to face Draco again.

"Y-you don't want me to leave?" The boy said in a nervous tone.

"No, I don't," Draco said, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of having someone to play with now. "Do you want to swing?"

Draco felt rude asking someone to play on their own swing set.

The boy nodded and Draco waited until he sat down before he retook his place on the swing.

"I'm Draco," he said, mentally slapping himself for not introducing himself earlier.

"I'm Harry" the boy said quietly, swinging ever so slightly.

There was an unnatural silence after that that made Draco nervous. He had always hated silences.

Harry had begun to swing harder on the swing, and Draco got an idea.

"I'll be you I can swing higher," Draco said picking up his speed.

Pretty soon, the two boys were swinging and laughing together, one trying to be better than the other.

A half-hour had passed, and things had begun to get darker. The boys had decided to play tag a while ago and were running around the yard. The neighbors could be heard yelling at the kids to be quiet, yet they themselves were having a pool party and making noise also.

Dark gray clouds began to roll over the blue blanket of the Earth that was the sky. The neighbors all gave out loud yells as the skies opened up and they all ran to get the food inside before it got ruined. While the neighbors made their mad scramble for the door on the other side of the privacy fence, the two boys continued to run around, slipping and sliding on the mud.

"Draco, we are planning to leave soon," he heard his mother say from the doorway. He turned to look at her as he rounded the corner of the swing set, to let her know that he had heard what she said, but failed to noticed the puddle of mud that had formed in the pouring rain.

His momentum, plus the sudden change of his body position had caused Draco to place his foot in the puddle the wrong way and upset his balance. His foot pushed backwards, sliding in the water laden mud, causing him to fall forward. The middle of his forehead came sharply down on the edge of the swing set's frame. Draco rolled over and held his forehead. The pain was so immense that tears began to run down his face, though the sheets of rain washed them straight away.

"Draco!" His mother's voice cut through the pounding in his ears, making his head throb. "Lucius, come quick!"

Draco opened his eyes ever-so-slightly and looked over and saw Harry, standing there wide-eyed and he looked paler than a ghost.

He felt a hand take his own off of his forehead and his mother's worried voice was talking to him. The harder he tried to figure out what she was saying to him, the more he felt as if he'd be sick.

Draco gave up on trying to think, and let things just fall into place. He heard his father's footsteps squelching through the mud. How angry he would be later when he realized that he has just ruined his best dress shoes. An arm encircled his shoulders and one went under he knees picking him up. His head came to rest on the rich Italian silk of his father's clothes that he had come to know so well.

At once the voices around him all made sense. Mrs. Dursley was telling his parents that she would call a hospital. His father was telling her not to worry about it, and that he would take Draco home and take care of it.

Draco heard heavy footsteps pass them as Mr. Dursley made his way outside. He could faintly hear Mr. Dursley yelling and Harry's protests in between yells. He tried to life his head off of his father's shoulder, but with no prevail.

"Shh, Draco, just rest yourself," his father's voice could be heard softly above him.

"But-Harry…" Draco moaned, bringing his hand up to rest on his father's shoulder. He half opened his eyes, looking wearily into his father's gray eyes.

With a brief glance down the hallway, Draco saw a dripping wet Harry being drug through the door. Mr. Dursley's hand was tangled in Harry's thick hair and was using this to steer Harry into what Draco thought was a closet.

"Oh, Lucius, please just let me call an ambulance for Draco," Mrs. Dursley said, obviously trying her hardest to get him to oblige.

"No, I'd prefer to get someone I personally know to look at him," Lucius said, pushing the matter aside. "Come, Narcissa."

"We thank you for having us," Narcissa said, then trailed off after her husband.

"Get back here, boy!" Mr. Dursley's voice yelled. A vase smashed against the floor when someone ran by, and his father took a step backwards, drawing Draco's small body closer to his own.

"D-dad," Draco said, watching a trail of blood run down the curve of his nose.

"Yes, Draco?"

"I feel sick," Draco said, trying to bury his face further into his father's shoulder.

"We'll be home soon, son," Lucius said. Panic was beginning to etch its way into his father's voice. "Cissa, take Draco home and call Healer Fulton as quickly as you can, please?" Lucius said in hushed tones.

"When will you be home?" Narcissa asked, taking Draco from Lucius' arms.

"As soon as I can, now go," Lucius said, kissing her on the forehead and guiding her towards the door.

Draco heard the almost nonexistent noise of the door opening and closing on its well oiled hinges. He felt the short bounces as his mother walked down the steps to get off the patio. Once they left the protection of the patio ceiling, the rain drenched them within moments.

"Honey, I know this is going to hurt you right now, but I want to apparate you home, okay?" Narcissa asked her only son.

All Draco could do was nod. The feeling of nausea was taking over and he felt as if he'd empty his stomach at any moment. Talking to his mother wasn't worth that risk. After giving his mother that small gesture he felt the familiar constriction of Side-Along Apparition, which his parents had used many times with him when they went to Diagon Alley.

When he felt the pressure relieve, his head hurt more than it did, but he could feel the familiar atmosphere of the manor. His mother carried him to the nearest room with a couch, the study he had sat in previously. There he was laid on the couch and his mother grabbed several tissues from the box on the end table.

"Here, Draco, hold these on your head. I'm going right over to the fire to get the Healer." She handed him the tissues and he put them on the gash on his forehead.

A few moments of whispered discussions through the fire and Healer Fulton was standing on the hearth of the study. With a few long strides he was kneeling next to the couch on which Draco lay.

"Well, Master Draco, what have we done?" He said removing Draco's hand from his forehead. "Well, that is a nice gash you have there," he said running his index finger over it lightly trying to assess how deep it actually was. "It doesn't appear to be deep enough to do any real damage," he said and with a wave of his wand the mark disappeared, but the pain didn't.

"Now, Narcissa, he will still be in a small amount of pain, and will most likely have a headache for several hours to a day, but after that he should be fine. He should take this in about twenty minutes. The potion will put him to sleep for about 10 hours or so, it's just to help him rest. If something doesn't seem right to you, please don't hesitate to call me." He said nodding to Narcissa slightly.

"Thank you for coming, Healer Fulton," Narcissa said smiling, the phial grasped in her hand.

"Anytime you need me, Narcissa. Draco, I hope you feel better," he said looking at the small boy on the couch, who gave a small wave in acknowledgment. With one last brief smile, Healer Fulton walked back into the fireplace and disappeared into the bright green flames.

"How are you feeling?" Narcissa said, sitting on the edge of the couch, stroking Draco's sleek blonde hair.

"My head still hurts," he replied, not bothering to open his eyes.

"It will. Do you want to go upstairs and get cleaned up? You're covered in mud and blood, and you're soaking wet," she said running her hand along the sleeve of his shirt.

Draco nodded and tried to sit up, but a blinding pain shot through his head. That plan wasn't going to work.

"No, Draco, be still. I will carry you up," Narcissa said and picked him up. It was a short walk up stairs and when they stopped, Draco found himself in his bathroom. His mother set him down on the edge of the tub and started to wash his exposed skin with a warm washcloth. After setting the soiled washcloth down beside Draco she walked back into his room to get him a pair of pajamas. Granted, the clock said the time was only ten in the morning, but the Healer said that he needed rest.

"Here, dear, get dressed then we can put you in bed," Narcissa said and turned to face the wall to give Draco his privacy. Draco got dressed rather slowly because of his throbbing head, but soon enough he was standing next to his mother, leaning against her side.

"To bed with you," she said smiling, walking with him over to his bed. There he climbed up and slid underneath the emerald green bedspread, his head resting on the downy pillow. His mother sat down next to him. Draco closed his eyes, wishing to fall asleep but knowing that twenty minutes hadn't passed yet, so taking the potion was out of the question.

"Narcissa, would you be up here?" Draco heard his father's voice from the stairwell.

"Yes, we're in Draco's room," Narcissa said back to him.

He heard his father walk in and felt him sit down next to his mother on the bed.

"Is he okay?" Lucius said, taking Draco's hand.

"The Healer said that he would be fine, he just needs to rest."

"Well from the looks of it, he has already started that."

"Yes, well he was supposed to take this potion before he went to sleep. It's to help him sleep. I don't want to wake him up to make him take it though." Narcissa let out a long, well deserved sigh. "How was your 'expedition' at the Dursley's?" Narcissa asked, curious as to what happened.

"I would rather not go into details with it, but I can tell you that at the end of it, I felt so bad that I wiped everyone's memory of us ever being there."

A gasp passed Narcissa's lips. "It was _that_ bad?"

Draco heard a barely audible "Yes," come from his father before he truthfully fell into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Four years later, Draco found himself standing in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He was standing in the back room waiting for Madam Malkin to return when she ushered another boy in. The boy seemed so familiar to Draco, but he just couldn't quite place it. The raven-haired boy and himself started talking back and forth, and at once it struck Draco just who this boy was. _Harry. _

This boy was the same boy that he had been playing with that one fateful day in the summer. While they were playing tag, it had begun pouring and Draco slipped and split his head open. He had never seen anything of any of the Dursley's after that point, and his father would not go into details of why he had to erase their memories, but rather got angry because Draco knew about it.

* * *

A few short weeks later, Draco met up with Harry at Hogwarts while waiting for Professor McGonagall to return. When Harry denied his friendship, it drove Draco into an extremely deep pit of despair. This was the reason that Draco had despised Harry and everything that he has done, or ever will do. The fact that they had been such good friends when they were seven, then because of Harry's uncle it all went wrong, and continued to be chaotic to this very day made Draco want to hit someone.

END FLASHBACK(S)

* * *

"No, particular reason, _Harry_."

* * *

A/N: I need to know from you guys, should I keep this going or should I stop it here? If you want me to keep it going, try throwing out ideas of what you would like to happen. 


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